


Learning

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Series: Learning [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Incest, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26367535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by Orangeblossom Brambleburr
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Series: Learning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916137
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own pervy hobbit-fancier ideals.  
> Feedback: I beg of you.

The firelight painted rosy designs on Merry's skin, deepening shadows and making his simple features seem dramatic. Pippin sighed fondly, trying to tear his eyes away. Older. He looked older. Thirty three. Of age, now, and soon his family would be after him to marry some rosy, dull lass. The thought of losing Merry to marriage made Pippin's throat tighten; he was jealous of the idea, let alone whoever the bride would be.

But then, he reconsidered. Frodo hadn't married after his thirty-third birthday; he was forty-seven now and showed no interest in settling down. Of course, there was no one to make him marry. No parents, and Bilbo had been gone for fourteen years--besides, Bilbo himself had never married so there was little chance he'd have pushed for matrimony even if he had stayed.

Pippin never wanted to marry--married people stayed home nights, cared for squalling babies and almost never lost themselves to ale. He didn't want a life of quiet responsibility; he wanted things to say just as they were. He stretched and shook his head before he stood to refill his tankard. He didn't want to think about it anymore, it was just too upsetting.

Merry was across the room, laughing, telling some tale to Frodo. There were others there as well; Fatty Bolger was still about, and Sam, and Sam's oldest brother Hamson who was in for a visit. They'd all gathered here at Bag End to celebrate Merry's birthday but most of the guests had gone home. Even as he watched, Hamson and Sam stood to say their goodnights, Sam's eyes lingering on Frodo for a long moment before he left. Pippin shook his head again; he recognized that look and his heart twitched in sympathy.

Pippin drank deeply from his glass; he wasn't certain how many ales he'd had so far. Enough that he felt pleasantly warm and rather sleepy, but not so much that he felt ill or dizzy. He cocked his head and considered; perhaps another glass after this. The dizziness brought with it blissful ease of strain, he could use that.

Fatty was sprawled drunkenly in a chair; evidently he'd surpassed pleasantly dizzy in favor of flat unconsciousness. Frodo laughed and nudged Merry as Fatty let lose with a ripe snore. "Best get him into one of the rooms," he said, shaking his head. He cuffed Merry playfully on the arm. "Make yourself useful, you lazy Brandybuck."

Merry pretended a scowl but helped guide Fatty to one of the many guest rooms. He landed with an undignified plop across the bed; no one bothered to straighten him. Merry yawned.

"Think I'll off to bed before I'm the next to be carried," Merry said, setting his empty glass on the table. He smiled at his cousins. "Good night, Frodo, thanks for a smashing party. 'Night Pip."

Pippin hugged his cousin and watched as he went off to bed. "I best be off too," Frodo said, scratching his head. "You'll holler if you need anything, eh Pip?" he said, but he wasn't paying attention to the answer; he was hurrying off to the bedrooms.

Pippin sighed and stretched, helping himself to another ale. He wandered the silent kitchen of Bag End, his thoughts churning. He was too anxious; he helped himself to some bread and cheese. Chewing thoughtfully, he knew he wasn't going to sleep for a long time yet.

He perked up slightly. Merry. He wanted to talk to Merry. Of course, he _always_ wanted to talk to Merry; he'd spent his entire life wanting to talk to, to follow, to be near Merry. But tonight it seemed urgent, pressing, and he couldn't say why. Shrugging, he finished his snack and wiped his mouth nervously. Better hurry, else Merry would be asleep.

Pippin walked down the hall, past the guest room that he'd been given to the closed door of Merry's room. He could hear movement inside. Good. He was still awake. Pippin tapped softly on the door, but there was no answer. Slowly, he pressed the door inward.

"Merry, I..." he began, but stopped short, his mouth hanging open in perfect astonishment. Merry was certainly still awake, but he was not alone. He was seated upon the bed, his shirt open and loose. His head was tipped back, lips flushed. And in his arms was Frodo, shirtless, mouth pressed against Merry's throat. Pippin made a small, involuntary squeak in the back of his throat, something of shock and dismay.

The pair on the bed jerked to attention, Merry's cheeks burning. "Pip..." he gasped, eyes flashing though Pippin couldn't tell if it was with anger or something else.

Pippin stiffened, biting his lips. "I...I'm sorry. I..." he shook his head. "Good night."

In one smooth movement, Merry was out of the bed and at Pippin's side. "Pip, wait, please." Frodo sat on the bed, bemused.

Pippin looked sullen. "What?"

Merry stroked his cheek gently, but Pippin twitched away. "Pip, you're angry with me...?"

Pippin stared hard at him. "I...You...I mean..." he stammered uselessly. "Its not bloody fair!"

Frodo laughed. Pippin's curly head whipped to shoot him an angry look. "You ought to have done this long ago, Merry," Frodo said, shaking his head.

"He's too young."

"How old were you? Twenty, if that! You thought yourself plenty old enough then."

"Just because you're a filthy, randy old hobbit doesn't mean I have to be!"

Pippin's eyes darted between his bickering cousins.

Frodo rolled his eyes. "As if you would have waited--you came to me, if you remember!"

"Pip hasn't come to me, though," Merry said with a sigh. "He's not ready for this."

This was too much. "I am! I am ready!" Pippin stood defiant at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips as he glared at Merry and Frodo in turn. "I want...I..." He faltered. What did he want?

Now Merry laughed. "Ah, Pip, you have no idea. But perhaps Frodo is right, perhaps you _are_ ready to learn." He exchanged a look with Frodo before he stroked his fingers through Pippin's unruly curls and tipped the small, defiant face to his own, kissing him slowly and deeply.

Pippin moaned into Merry's mouth, amazed as his thoughts fell into place. Yes, this was what he'd wanted, what had spoiled sleep for him. But there was something strange...he whimpered faintly as Merry's hands explored his chest, deftly unhooking the buttons of his shirt.

"All right, Pippin?" Merry gasped against him. "If you're not sure..."

Pippin silenced him with another kiss, his own hands moving boldly over Merry's exposed chest. "I've never been so sure of anything."

"Ought I to leave, then?" Frodo said a trifle awkwardly. He stood and rested a tentative hand on Merry's arm.

"No!" gasped Pippin, twisting in Merry's embrace. He gripped Frodo's bare arm tightly.

Frodo raised a brow and exchanged another eloquent look with Merry. "That's a development," he said slowly, long fingers stroking Pippin's shoulders, carefully pulling his open shirt off. "If you're quite sure, then..."

Pippin groaned. "Yes, I'm sure, I swear it!" He didn't know exactly what he wanted, but he knew that he didn't want Merry to stop kissing him. He cried out in surprise as he felt Frodo's lips touch the back of his neck. He was between the two older hobbits, his back burning against Frodo's cool flesh, his chest against Merry's. Two pairs of arms were embracing him, two pairs of hands were exploring his heated skin. He felt Merry pressing against him, moving all three of them at once to the large bed.

Merry fell back for a moment, removing his own clothes. He sat on the edge of the bed then, holding Pippin at arm's length admiringly for a moment before pulling him closer. Merry's fingers moved to the fastenings of Pippin's trousers; he gazed over Pippin's shoulder for a moment. Frodo nodded and slipped his fingers into the younger hobbit's waistband; in one smooth movement they'd slipped the trousers to the floor. Pippin made a sound of surprise but did not complain as he was lifted onto the bed, back into Merry's arms. He could hear rustling behind him but before he could really wonder what was going on he felt Frodo slip into bed, warm against his back.

It was a strange sensation, being sandwiched between the soft, warm bodies of the two older hobbits. Merry's mouth left his to slide lower to kiss over Pippin's narrow chest, his tongue darting out to taste the salty skin; Frodo echoed Merry's slow slide down, his lips drawing paths down Pippin's back. Pippin wriggled; it tickled but it also felt good--not just good but amazing. His stomach felt strange, as if he was getting sick but somehow that felt good too.

Frodo's hands were moving steadily over his back, lower to caress his hips--Pippin's eyes flew open as a finger slipped between his cheeks. Before he could fully grasp what Frodo was doing Merry's hand wrapped around Pippin; his hips bucked and he cried out incoherently.

Merry pressed his lips to Pippin's again, parting the rosy lips with his tongue as his hand moved faster, his free hand moved across Pippin's body to rest on Frodo's hip, drawing him in tighter. Frodo's hands were still moving; he gently eased a second finger into Pippin's body, stretching him to accommodate a third.

Pippin's hips rocked against Merry's caressing hand and he gasped at the sensations that were overtaking him. His head spun for a moment, wondering how Merry could have known about this and not shown him before, wondering if he should do something other than lie still and accept the touches. Merry seemed determined to keep him from thinking overmuch; his kisses again left Pippin's mouth to draw a rapid line over his rounded belly before he caught Pippin in his warm mouth.

Pippin yelped in surprise; he'd never imagined something could feel like this, so hot and slick against his skin. Frodo leaned in close over his shoulder, kissing Pippin. "Are you still sure about this?" he gasped huskily, his tongue tracing the edge of the pointed ear so close to his lips. Pippin arched his body until he could kiss Frodo's lips. His eyes were wide, dark and pleading but he could not form words; he knew there was something more but he wasn't sure what.

Frodo was moving against his back again; the fingers were replaced with something wider, harder. Startled Pippin's body went rigid as he realized what Frodo was doing, but the pain was pleasure in itself and he gasped. Looking down he watched Merry's steady movements, his face almost buried between Pippin's legs, one hand caressing there as well as he pleasured himself with the other hand. He moaned around Pippin, the vibrations feeling tickly and wonderful, and Frodo was moving inside him...Pippin cried out, first Merry's name and then Frodo's, the two words the only sound he could form, chanting them one after the other until they bled together and lost all meaning.

Frodo was moving almost jerkily against him now, his breath coming in pants. Suddenly he stiffened and groaned, a sound of release that seemed to come from the depths of his stomach. Pippin could feel Frodo pulsing inside him; at the same moment Merry drew him as deeply into his mouth as he could, his tongue lapping urgently. It was more than Pippin could take; with a gasping cry he came, bucking against Merry's mouth.

Merry moaned against him and stiffened; Pippin felt a warm burst against his legs. For a time nobody moved, only lay in a warm huddle, hands moving slowly over sweaty flesh. At last Merry slid back up to plant a fond kiss on Pippin's lips.

Suddenly Pippin was wide awake. "Merry, how long have you...I mean...Why didn't you _tell_ me, and..."

"Shhh," Merry said with a tender smile. "I don't know. I should have, I guess, I just...I didn't know if you'd _want_ this...me...its not like this is normal, you know."

Pippin shrugged. "What's normal? Not much fun, that's for sure."

Frodo chuckled, a warm sensation against Pippin's back. "I've been happy for a long time being...unusual," he agreed, nuzzling Pippin's curls.

Merry wrapped his arms around his cousin, stretching so he could touch Frodo as well. He smiled lazily. "This is the best birthday I've ever had."


End file.
